


Your Name Says No, But Your Mouth Says Yes.

by prettyapathetic



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Light-Hearted, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyapathetic/pseuds/prettyapathetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the first ever House fic I ever wrote so it's far from my best, but hey, I figured I'd put up everything here. This is a light-hearted, PG, pre-slash story about a staff Halloween Party that Cuddy holds and how Wilson manages to convince House to go. Takes place early season six, after House is out of Mayfield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Name Says No, But Your Mouth Says Yes.

At first, when House heard about Cuddy’s Halloween party, he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to go. The old House, the pre-Mayfield House, probably would’ve mocked the idea at first, but then ended up going at Wilson’s insistence. This time was different though. House was actively trying to get better, to be more social. Maybe not social by most people’s standards but at least more social for House.

 

House was sitting in his office, twirling his cane as he contemplated his dilemma, oblivious to everything around him when he suddenly felt someone staring at him. Looking completely unsurprised, he raised his eyes to see Wilson staring at him, hands on hips and looking mildly annoyed.

 

“It’s not going to kill you, you know,” Wilson said with a bit of a sigh. House would never let him know it, but all Wilson really had to do was stand there and look at him like that for him to cave. If Wilson ever found out how much power he actually had over House, well, it just wouldn’t be good for House’s reputation.

 

“How do you know it won’t kill me? I could become entranced with whatever low cut costume Cuddy has decided on, wander out of the party and get hit by a bus,” House replied in his usual mocking tone.

 

“House,” Wilson started, sounding a bit more irritated. “Come on. This’ll be good for you. Besides, I found you the perfect costume.”

 

House rolled his eyes over dramatically at Wilson, but rose from his chair anyways. “Okay, but it had better be really good. I mean, the best costume of all time because I was really looking forward to wearing my ‘This is my costume’ t-shirt.” He gave Wilson his best innocent look, but it didn’t work, as per usual.

 

Wilson just shook his head and held House’s office door open, indicating it was time to go.

 

 

***

 

House couldn’t contain his look of awe when Wilson shows him his costume and Wilson couldn’t contain the small smile that graces his face whenever he sees that look in House’s eyes.

 

“How did you know?” House asked, sounding, for quite possibly the first time in his life, completely humbled. He looked at Wilson, for one brief moment, not hiding anything, simply waiting for an answer.

 

Wilson only smiled at first, enjoying a rare moment of House honesty. “You mean how did I know that you’ve always wanted to dress up as a Bond Villain? Let’s just say it’s something I’ve picked up over the last decade or so,” he replied with a slightly arched eyebrow.

 

House smirked slightly. He never really noticed just when Wilson had gotten to know him so well, but he’s finding more and more that he likes it… a lot. In fact, Wilson’s the only person House never really wanted to push away. He knew that he had done things that would’ve potentially pushed Wilson out of his life forever, but he didn’t like to think about that. In fact, Wilson was the only person House was sure he couldn’t live without.

 

There’s a pause between the two of them. Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity to House, but probably only lasted a few seconds. House suddenly felt a bit of a heat creep up his neck at something he sees in Wilson’s eyes, but refused to acknowledge. He quickly turned away, clearing his throat.

 

“So, ah,” he started, clearing his throat again as he sat down on the couch, rubbing his bad leg almost nochalantly. “What are you planning on going as?” He steadfastly refused to look up at Wilson, instead choosing to examine his favourite part of his costume. _How the hell did Wilson find metal hands?_ he wondered briefly.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Wilson responded, the mischief in his voice almost palpable. House can’t resist and he looks back up at Wilson, a keen look of interest in his blue eyes.

 

Their eyes lock again, but this time House doesn’t look away. It’s almost challenging, House clearly wanting to know and Wilson clearly not willing to budge.

 

This time it was Wilson that broke the stare. His smile widened and he shakes his head at his best friend. “You’ll find out what my costume is when I get to the party and no sooner.”

 

House scoffed. “And how do you expect to keep it from me? I do live here now. I don’t even have to break in to go through your stuff.”

 

The smile on Wilson’s face didn’t falter. Instead of answering, he went into the kitchen, grabbed them a couple of beers and sat down next to House on the couch, turning on the television.

 

***

 

 

By the time the night of the party rolled around, House was about to rip his hair out. He couldn’t figure out how Wilson had done it, but he’d managed to keep House from finding out what he was going as to Cuddy’s party. He couldn’t even figure out why it had to be such a secret, other than Wilson just wanting to drive him crazy.

 

“Well, Wilson, I have news for you,” House said to the empty apartment as he pulled on his ‘metal’ gloves, completing his Dr. No look. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.”

 

House steadfastly refused to admit to himself that he was telling off an imaginary Wilson because he actually couldn’t find something out.

 

He gave himself one last glance in the mirror, for once actually caring about how he looks (Can’t be a sloppy Dr. No after all!), and heads for the door. He kind of wished he was going to the party _with_ Wilson, but that would go against Wilson’s damned super secret fucking costume crap.

 

House growled slightly which suddenly pleased him as it really added to his Villain Demeanor.

 

Twenty minutes later, House arrived at Cuddy’s feeling oddly anxious. He adjusted his suit. He briefly wondered if he should’ve added a cat to his ensemble, but though a real one would be too hard to handle and a fake one would just look dumb. Hopefully his metal hands helped out. And hey, if no one recognized Dr. No, that was their problem.

 

He adjusted his suit one more time and rang the doorbell. A moment later, Cuddy opened the door and greeted House with a bit of a smirk. “You know what he’s coming as, don’t you?” House accused by way of his own greeting.

 

“Oh yeah,” she replied, smugly, the smirk remaining firm on her face as she stepped aside to let him in. House eyed her suspiciously as he entered and checked out the party.

 

She had really outdone herself. Her living room had a vaguely eerie feeling with all the fake cobwebs and low-toned light. There were pumpkin candles set up around on tables and the mantelpiece and even a fake tombstone in the corner. House hated to admit it, but the place looked pretty good.

 

Cameron and Chase were already there, dressed as what House assumed to be Romeo and Juliet. _So Cameron’s idea_ House thought, judging by the look of unease on Chase’s face. They were talking to Foreman, who was dressed, not so surprisingly, as Dracula.

 

House noted something disturbing about the scene of his co-workers and underlings standing there when he walked in and it takes him a minute to realize that it’s not costume selection, but the fact that they’re all _staring_ at him, each with smirks to match Cuddy’s.

 

House leans heavily on his cane and glares at all of them. “Oh no!” he started with mock horror, pretending to bit the nails of his free hand with his free hand. “I didn’t realize the costume theme was stereotypes! Whatever am I going to do?” He did his best over dramatic look of fear before rolling his eyes and heading for the tray of food Cuddy had set out.

 

Foreman gives him his typical displeased with one eyebrow raised look, Cameron gives her displeased, stern look, but only Chase has the balls to say something. “I don’t know,” he drawls. “You’re a Bond Villain aren’t you? Cold and callus and really only care about yourself? I think maybe you got your costume right after all.” Chase continues to smirk and House can’t help but think what a great idea he had when he fired Chase. It certainly made Chase less boring.

 

After that, whatever tension there was fizzles in the room. House gets himself a gin and tonic and helps himself to as much food as he can handle and everyone else socializes. It’s really not long before House started to get bored and wondered what the hell was taking Wilson so damn long.

 

He was just on his way to ask Cuddy if she had any idea where Wilson was so he could get the hell out of here already when the doorbell rings again.

 

House became painfully aware that the smirks returned to the faces of all his co-workers as Cuddy went to answer the door. She opened it to reveal Wilson, dressed to the nines as the impeccable Bond, James Bond, completely with a (fake) Baretta 418 just barely noticeable under his white suit jacket. Wilson smirked confidently and stared directly at House.

 

House just stared, unable to pick his jaw up off the floor. The room narrows in some god awful rendition of a crappy romance novel until everything else faded away and they were the only ones there. House hated scenes like that, and yet he liked this for some reason. He liked it _a lot_. More than he’d ever admit to anyways.

 

Wilson’s smirk changed then to a bright smile as he walked over to House. House could only watch as Wilson approached, a voice in the back of his head absolutely screaming that they were dressed as a damned couple! Cooler than Romeo and Juliet over in the corner, but a couple no less.

Once Wilson got a bit closer, House could see that look in his eyes again, the one he wouldn’t acknowledge the day Wilson had told him about the costume he’d gotten for him and suddenly, House wanted nothing more than to kiss Wilson. His brain stuttered slightly at the thought, and he had to backtrack his own mind for a minute, but he found it was nothing but the truth.

 

House tried to contain himself, tried to appear his usual casual and uncaring self, but he couldn’t help but think that the looks on everyone else’s face at the party suddenly made a whole hell of a lot more sense than they had five minutes earlier.

 

“I’m going to make myself a martini, shaken not stirred, in the kitchen. Come with me?” Wilson asked, still looking entirely too confident, and damn it, _hot_.

 

“I will as long as you don’t tell another stupid joke like that,” House replied with his usual biting humour, though there was no malice in his eyes. Actually, House was rather amused (and to his own almost unheard of embarrassment) turned the fuck on.

 

Wilson just nodded and headed towards Cuddy’s kitchen, House limped just a bit behind.

 

Once in the relative privacy of the kitchen, Wilson silently starts to make himself a martini as if he knew House was going to say something anyways.

 

House didn’t though. Instead he goes with his baser instincts and his usual philosophy of just taking what he wants by grabbing Wilson’s arm and spinning him around so that they’re facing. He backed him, rather unceremoniously up against the counter and without a drop of hesitation, kissed Wilson full on the mouth.

 

It was perfect, so perfect in fact that House started to feel like his head might explode and long before he actually wanted to, he pulled away.

 

To House, Wilson looked even better post-kiss and he suddenly wanted to kick himself for not noticing all this before. Or, more accurately, not letting himself do this. He noticed before, he just wasn’t ready to admit it.

 

“I’m guess that means you like my costume,” Wilson said, smiling broadly now.

 

“Shut up Wilson,” House replied and kissed him again, realizing now that it was something he never wanted to stop doing.


End file.
